


Panic

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: A Breath of Home [4]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-07
Updated: 2011-09-07
Packaged: 2017-10-23 12:37:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Ryan meet at the San Diego Comic Con and hot sex ensues. In this chapter, Sam and Ryan experiment further and Ryan freaks out.</p><p>
  <i>Ryan's skin is damn near crawling. He's not sure just what he was expecting, but... the idea of lying across Sam's lap like he's a child being punished is kind of mortifying. Inhaling a deep breath, he sets his jaw and moves closer. "I'll try anything once," he mutters, as much to reassure himself. Slowly - and feeling awkward as all hell - he drapes himself over Sam's thighs.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Panic

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone familiar with the RPG Citadel, this is NOT backstory for our pups in the game. In Citadel, Sam is played as the actor and Ryan is played AU as a songwriter. And then a little birdie told us our boys were going to be at SDCC at the same time in real life and we couldn't pass up the opportunity to see what would happen in another world, with the boys both as their actor selves.

It's weird, waking up wrapped around Sam. But good weird. Early morning sunlight filters through the bedroom curtains, and Ryan spends long minutes just studying Sam's sleeping face. He's gorgeous. But there's more than that. He's exciting, and sexy, and friendly, and - so far - unafraid to give Ryan _more_ when he asks for it. The prospect of visiting him in Australia and really getting to know him better is an amazing one.

Easing out of the bed, Ryan takes a quick shower. Wearing only a pair of boxer briefs, he heads into the kitchen to try and put some breakfast together, only to find that his refrigerator is damn near empty. "Shit," he mutters, and digs out the take-away menus. He's not really sure what Sam likes, so he just orders a selection of pancakes, eggs, sausage, bacon, and fruit to be delivered. Western civilization rocks sometimes.

Stretching out on his back, limbs to all four corners, Sam slowly comes awake. It takes a moment, the ceiling and bed unfamiliar, but he quickly remembers where he is. Noting with more than a little disappointment that he's waking alone. For the second morning in a row.

"Hey thanks, man," Ryan says counting out cash and handing it over to the delivery man. "Have a great day." He locks the door behind him and hitches the sacks of food up, wandering down the hall to peek into his bedroom. "Hey, you're up," he says, his smile for Sam wide and delighted. "Hungry?"

"Starving," Sam says, sitting up, relieved to find Ryan hasn't abandoned him after all. "How long have you been up?"

"A little more than an hour, I guess," Ryan answers with a shrug. Leaning against the doorframe, he watches Sam for long moments, thinking how phenomenally fucking hot he looks, just waking up after a night of good sex. Abruptly he realizes he's staring. "Sorry. I'll just... just go set up everything in the kitchen for when you're ready."

"I'll be there in a minute," Sam says, grinning widely. He takes a piss, washes his hands, splashes some water over his face then slips on his jeans and heads for the kitchen. "I never got the tour last night," he murmurs, brushing a kiss across Ryan's bare shoulder as he comes up behind him.

Shivering deliciously at the kiss, Ryan grins. "I can't imagine why," he says, laying out napkins and silverware. "We must have been preoccupied." He turns and busses Sam's lips. "Do you want coffee?"

"Yes, please." Sam can't seem to stop grinning. "Anything I can do?"

"Um, just look through the bags and make sure there's enough for you to eat," Ryan says, gesturing at the styrofoam containers of food. He pulls coffee beans out of the freezer and grinds them up fresh, then sets a mug of green tea to steep for himself. "Did you sleep well?"

"I had a great sleep and this looks amazing." Sam's stomach rumbles at the smell of the bacon and sausage. He grins over at Ryan. "What are you going to eat?"

Ryan laughs. "I guess I'll have to make do with your leftovers." He puts a steaming cup of coffee on the table for Sam, then takes his seat with his tea. "So, um." He feels like he should say something, but he doesn't know about what. And the truth is, he feels pretty comfortable right now, an easy morning-after with sunshine streaming through the windows.

Sam's just kidding. He divides everything between two plates and slides one towards Ryan. "Um...?"

Picking up a fork, Ryan shrugs. "We have a day off together," he says softly. "Given the way our respective schedules run, I think the planets must be aligned or something." He grins at Sam and spears a strawberry. "What do you want to do?" He hopes the excitement underlying his voice makes up for the mundane quality of the question.

"That's a good question," Sam says. "We could go surfing, or for a hike somewhere, come back here to clean up, fuck," he says bluntly. "Go out and grab dinner somewhere and repeat. Although..." he adds quickly, before Ryan can interject, "I think I owe you a spanking."

There it is. Ryan's been on edge since he woke up this morning, wondering... wondering if they'd actually ever go there or if it was one of those things that would just get laughed off. He's scared by the idea, and wickedly aroused, and wildly curious. It's the curiosity that settles it for him. "Was I too rough on you?"

"You certainly weren't gentle," Sam responds with a smile, popping a slice of bacon into his mouth.

Sipping at his tea, Ryan studies Sam, the decadent way he licks a spot of grease from his finger. "Should I apologize?"

"Not if you're willing to go along with your punishment," Sam murmurs, his jeans tightening already at the thought.

Punishment. _Fuck_. "All right," Ryan says softly. He drizzles melting butter over his pancakes, mind already racing at a thousand miles a minute.

"So maybe we should start with that when we're done here," Sam says, making quick work of his eggs. "See what you still feel like doing after."

Ryan quirks a brow at that. "Why, are you going to incapacitate me?" With a spanking? Ryan finds that pretty hard to believe. He's eating faster too now, though.

"I'm not planning on it," Sam says, making sure he eats some fruit as well. "But you never know how you're gonna react. Things like that can get pretty heady."

"Oh." Ryan bites his lip on any further response, knowing he's way out of his depth here. Kicking his chair back onto two legs, he downs the last of his tea. And he drops his free hand down to press against the bulge of his cock

Sam smiles, tracking Ryan's hand, his own cock throbbing roughly against his zipper. "So," he murmurs, pushing his plate away. "You got a couch in this place?"

"That's it," Ryan says, nodding towards the open living room. "What you see is what you get." His stereo holds pride of place opposite the sofa. A television, however, is nowhere to be found. Ryan gets to his feet and packs the scant leftovers into the fridge, then does a quick clean-up of the table.

"That'll work," Sam says, walking over and making himself at home on the couch. He crooks a finger at Ryan, his eyes sparkling.

"Wha-- you...? You're kidding, right?" Ryan stares at Sam, stares at his lap. Sam can't seriously expect him to... "I'm as big as you are."

"So? If it's big enough to stretch out on," and it is, Sam notes, "it's big enough for you to stretch out over my lap."

Ryan's skin is damn near crawling. He's not sure just what he was expecting, but... the idea of lying across Sam's lap like he's a child being punished is kind of mortifying. Inhaling a deep breath, he sets his jaw and moves closer. "I'll try anything once," he mutters, as much to reassure himself. Slowly - and feeling awkward as all hell - he drapes himself over Sam's thighs.

Sam shifts a little, making room for Ryan's cock between his legs. Runs his hand over Ryan's ass, through the fabric of his boxer briefs.

Biting his lip, Ryan tries to relax into the warmth of the touch. He lets his eyes slip shut, and focuses on the solid heat of Sam's body, the latent power coiled in his muscles.

Sam pulls the back of Ryan's briefs down, baring his ass, hand continuing to rub, fingers dipping between his cheeks.

That feels good. Ryan angles his hips back to invite more of that touch, deeper.

Sam rubs for a minute longer then pauses, waiting for a moment, a cue that the rub has come to an end, before lifting his hand and bringing it down on Ryan's bare ass, the blow nice and firm.

Even though he's sort of expecting it, the blow still catches Ryan by surprise. His body jerks, muscles going rigid with adrenaline in an instant. He has to force himself to hold his position, essentially talk himself down when every instinct is screaming to run. Slowly he breathes out, uncoiling his muscles one by one.

Sam's cock throbs and he exhales softly, breath catching in his throat at the way Ryan shifts against him. He brings his hand in again and again and a third time before pausing once more, carefully gauging Ryan's reaction.

Ryan frowns and fists his hands against the hardwood floor. He's not sure he's... getting this. What it's supposed to mean, what it's supposed to be doing for him. The pain is minimal, hardly even an annoyance. Maybe he's thinking about it all wrong -- maybe there's a mental aspect of this that he's simply missing.

"Not hard enough?" Sam murmurs, concerned about really letting Ryan have it. But maybe that's the problem. He slaps him again, palm flat and hard against both cheeks, and harder still, one blow after another in a quick dozen, each blow rocking Ryan forward, his cock against Sam's leg.

The way his cock rubs against Sam's thigh with each strike - delicious friction there but then gone - that might just drive Ryan mad. He can feel his ass warming up now, a sharp bite in his flesh that fades to a tingling. Bracing his weight on his arms, he wriggles, trying to get more contact on his prick.

"That doesn't seem part of the punishment," Sam says, but it's clear he's teasing, his smile in his voice. He strikes still harder, confident Ryan can take it, his hand warming, Ryan's ass reddening, the skin perfectly unblemished until now. Tightening his thighs around Ryan's cock.

"Oh, god." It hurts, but... _ohhh, fuck_. Ryan rocks his hips, rubbing his cock faster, using Sam's body to get himself off. The burning heat is expected now, a rhythmic flash of pain that melts into something deeper, heavier. He spreads his thighs, as much as he can without overbalancing, and curses as he feels the air tickle his bare hole. "Fuck me."

"Like this?" Sam licks two fingers and pushes them into Ryan, slowly but firmly penetrating his tight hole, his other hand rubbing over those fire-red cheeks. Letting Ryan fuck between his thighs.

Ryan grinds his teeth into his lip, trying to hold back the desperate whimper. He pushes back onto Sam's fingers, taking them deeper. Later, he'll be embarrassed by the way he's acting. Right now, he's consumed with need.

"You want more?" Sam asks, twisting those fingers into that tight heat, his other hand resuming the slapping. Palm flat against Ryan's bare ass, alternating between cheeks as he fucks him.

Now Ryan cries out. His world has narrowed to just this: the ruthless feeling of Sam's fingers in his ass, the intense orgasm coiling in his balls. The burning flash of pain as it streaks up his spine. He shouts again, shuddering as he explodes between Sam's thighs.

Sam groans, feeling the wet heat soak through his jeans, Ryan's body clench tight, so tight around his fingers, they feel like they might break. "That's it," he murmurs. "Let me have it all."

Shivering with an intense aftershock, Ryan moans. He's starting to come back to himself... and he's wishing he weren't. "Sorry," he whispers, easing off Sam's lap to kneel on the floor. "About your jeans." He can feel his face burning up.

"I'm not," Sam says, leaning in to kiss Ryan, hand firmly cupping the nape of his neck. "That was incredible and I have another pair with me."

Ryan nods once but keeps his gaze on the floor. He knows he's selfishly ignoring Sam's needs right now - he sneaks a peak at the way his erection swells against his fly - but he's freaking the fuck out. "I'm not used to feeling like this," he whispers, and even that tiny confession makes him feel like he's been flayed bare.

"Like what?" Sam asks softly, moving his hand to Ryan's shoulder, maintaining the connection between them. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Are you serious?" Ryan looks at Sam with something that's almost horror. Any minute now, Sam is going to get bored with his bullshit and walk the fuck out. Ryan's sure of it. He works his boxer briefs back up his legs and sits down on the floor. "Don't you want to fuck me?"

"Of course I do," Sam says, the throb of his cock between his thighs constant. Insistent. "But what we just did-- I told you it could be heady. I'd have to be a real asshole to ignore that."

Ryan stares at him, internally debating. "You just spanked me over your lap like I'm a four year-old," he whispers. "And I probably came harder than I ever have in my life. These last three days with you... I've had the most intense orgasms in... ever." He's figuring out a few things about himself -- and he's not sure he's comfortable with the discovery.

"Which is a good thing, yeah?" Sam says with a small smile, unable to help himself.

"Yeah," Ryan answers, but his expression is pure _You've got to be fucking kidding me._ "That is, if you don't mind that every time I come with you, I then have a fucking panic attack. Look, Sam..." he holds out a hand, then pulls it back. "I can only imagine what you think of me right now." And he _hates_ worrying what people think of him. "But I am not a panicker. Because I don't lose control. Ever. I don't need to," he explains. "I do an hour of yoga every fucking day, I am probably the calmest person you know. I'm fine, I am." And, okay, his argument would probably have been a lot stronger without that last part. Giving up on his pathetic explanation, he rubs his hand over his eyes.

"First of all, the only thing I'm thinking about you is how fucking amazing you are and how lucky I feel that we met and hit it off and are having such mind-blowing sex," Sam says. "Secondly, if you never lose control, that's probably exactly why you're panicking. You just have to realize it's okay, that you're safe with me."

It sounds like a nice answer. _Safe_. There's just something about it that's a little... off. "But wait," Ryan says with a shake of his head, "when do _you_ lose control?" Hell if he's going to be desperately vulnerable by himself.

"You don't think I did last night?" Sam asks. Or that he hasn't already, just by virtue of going after Ryan like this.

"I didn't see you freaking out," Ryan mutters, but he reaches out to touch, laying his hand on Sam's calf. Feeling the heat of his body through his jeans. His initial shock is fading slightly in the wake of Sam's reassurance. He still doesn't get it... but he's trying to trust.

"You asked about losing control, not freaking out," Sam says with a smile. "I did my freaking out years ago, when I first figured out what I liked."

"You like hurting me," Ryan says softly, watching Sam's eyes. It's not really a question.

Sam nods. "But only if you're getting off on it too," he clarifies, still worried about scaring Ryan off.

Ryan bites his lip, looking away, and there's that fucking burning on his cheeks again. "Apparently," he whispers. "I mean, I've always joked about how I'm a masochist -- I think you really have to be, to be an athlete. But I never... fuck." He drops his head to rest briefly on Sam's knee. Then he gets to his feet, straddling Sam's thighs and sitting down. "Tell me what I can do for you."

"Right now?" Sam says, his body responding instantly to the press of Ryan's weight. "I'd love it if you'd ride me."

"Yeah?" That's a request Ryan can handle without panic. He stands up and slides his shorts down his legs. Then he unzips Sam's jeans, tugging them open just the bare minimum. "Just a sec," he whispers. He's back in a moment with lube. He's still sore from taking Sam's fingers dry, and he winces as he starts to prep himself.

"Spit makes shit lube, doesn't it?" Sam murmurs, his eyes hot on Ryan, watching him, his cock growing every more rigid. "Did you bring a condom?"

"Yeah." Leaning forward, Ryan braces one hand on the back of the couch. He moans softly as he pushes a third finger inside, and slowly licks Sam's neck from collar to jaw.

"You're so hot like this," Sam tells him, a soft groan spilling from his lips at the touch of Ryan's tongue. "Prepping yourself for me. For my cock."

 _Damn it_. Something about that idea - prepping _for_ Sam - just gets to Ryan. He shivers, Sam's velvet sex voice moving over him like a palpable touch. "You're bruised here," he whispers, brushing his lips over Sam's throat. "From me."

Sam nods, so fucking turned on he can barely think straight. "Wearing your marks," he whispers back.

Ryan shuts his eyes briefly, biting back a moan. He rips open the condom and unrolls it onto Sam's cock, then carefully lowers himself down, rocking his hips to take Sam inside.

"Oh, god," Sam groans, tilting his head to bite at Ryan's mouth. "You feel so good." His hands on Ryan's chest, fingers pinching his nipples again, twisting them.

That fucking destroys Ryan. He yelps and slams all the way down to meet Sam's thighs, fire raging through his already-bruised ass, brutally stretching his hole in a ragged second. And then he just sobs out a breath, rocking in Sam's lap and melting into Sam's wicked fingers.

"Uh huh. That's it," Sam murmurs, rocking his own hips up to push deeper, nimble fingers tormenting Ryan's flesh, pulling and twisting and pinching.

"Oh god don't. Don't," Ryan begs, shuddering heavily with pleasure. He tangles his hands in Sam's hair and claws himself back from the edge, shocked to be there so fucking fast. "I need... need to..." He gasps and tips his head back, riding Sam's cock until everything's a blur.

"Need to what?" Sam prompts, getting his mouth on his Ryan's chest, licking over and around his fingers, teeth grazing those rigid nubs, scraping along that sensitive flesh. His cock throbbing roughly with every clench of Ryan's body.

Ryan cries out. He surges forward, pushing into Sam's touch. "Bite me," he gasps, totally forgetting that just moments ago he was trying to pull himself back from climax. "Please!"

Gladly. Sam clamps his teeth on Ryan's left nipple, grinding and chewing and abusing it as roughly as he dares, so fucking close to coming himself, he's just barely holding on by a thread.

Now Ryan outright screams. He's overcome in an instant, brutal pain shocking through him. His orgasm empties him out and leaves him reeling, and he can do nothing but cling to Sam.

The moment the first hot spurt hits his belly, Sam's coming as well, following Ryan over and flooding the latex between them. He licks over the same nipple, soothing the hurt, and then pulls back, wrapping his arms around Ryan, holding him close, so close. "So good," he murmurs. "So fucking good."

His breaths still thundering in his chest, Ryan drops his head to rest on Sam's shoulder. Sam's strength is reassuring, and he doesn't swell with panic this time like he did before. Fear still lurks at the edges, but he's actually comfortable just sitting here, quietly being. Hell. He's too wiped out to do anything else right now anyway.


End file.
